Lauren Cleal, The story of
by Force of the Phoenix
Summary: This is the story of Lauren Cleal - When Lauren, the girl missing from our favourite delinquents lives, and the gang get caught out in a freak storm while doing their crappy community service. Whats an almost normal teenage girl to do? Kick-ass powers, several murders, romance and total craziness ensues. Eventual Lauren/Nathan. Rated T - nothing different to real Misfits.
1. Meet Lauren

200 hours.

200 hours of screwed up community service with other screwed up idiots. My name is Lauren Cleal the Awesome, daughter of a banker and his shitty wife who ran away with his best man when I was 5. Although I have to hand it to the drunk bitch, she gave me some awesome genes. Luxurious light blonde hair, mossy green eyes and skin that only needs to have half an hour in the Indian sun and I have a tan the colour of caramel. Yes, I've seen some of India. Nothing major.

I suppose I got what I deserved. Karma, you know. But that didn't mean they would get me to go silently.

So, here I am. Having to change out of my beloved union jack shorts and fishnet tights, barely being able to yank up the garish orange jumpsuit past my vase-like, triplet-worthy-birthing hips. This damn jumpsuit is too tight, hugging my long, svelte legs and showing my afore-mentioned hips without any modesty. On a whim, I decide to tie the arms around my hips, instead letting my white wife beater do all the talking. Now, I'm not saying that I have nice breasts; they certainly aren't big and buxom, but I would definitely describe them as comfy, perky even. I put my hair up in a messy bun, with crazy ass mini braids with jade beads, blue and green strands of curls and a couple of feathers jutting out all over the place and tendrils of curls too short to put up and peak-a-boo fringe framing my tan round face. I double-check my makeup, which consists of eye liner with a small cat-like flick at its end and red lipstick that's aptly named 'Red cherry bomb', before popping a couple of sticks of gum in my mouth.

As I walk out of the dreary grey building of human depression all I can see is the sight of a large man wrestling with some other delinquent. The man seems is restraining a wannabe gansta back from having a fight with a smirking boy with thick, dark curls that run rampant on top of his head that's making mock kissy faces at him. The man proceeds to calm wannabe down before stepping back and looking up and down the orange jumpsuits, eventually stopping to call out "Where is Cleal?"

"I'm right here boss-man." I blow a bubble with my gum as the man, my probation worker, turns to look at me and let me out into the 'briefing room'. I walk into the light towards the railing that my fellow delinquents were all leaning against, waiting for the loud pop of the bubble before licking it back into my mouth as I continued. "I am Lauren the Awesome reporting for my piss take 'chance to give back to the community'.Thanks for waiting boss-man." I perform a mocking salute before stepping in line, grinning impishly at the boss-man, Tony... I think, as he glares at me for my sass.

The boss-man quickly goes on to an obviously rehearsed speech about our community service and how it was 'a chance to pay them back and prove them wrong'. All I could hear was blah, blah, blah, blah, blahddy blah. In my absolute disinterest, I take to discovering things about those I am to be spending my bullshit 200 hours with.

To my far right is Curtis Donovan standing slouched, well... as slouched as a guy that tall can get. I hadn't needed an intro to him; his infamous drugs taking had earned him a 2 year ban from competing, community service and a new, slightly shittier, rep. He's reasonably handsome, could probably show a girl like me a good time, but he seemed slightly stuck up when he saw me smiling at him. Total convo killer. His tattoo on his left shoulder interests me for a few moments; he hadn't struck me as the type for tribal tattoos and all that, but hey-ho.

Even more hunched over is a girl named Kelly, her elbows leaning heavily on the railings, her face showing more boredom than the Karma Sūtra shows kinky. Although, the girl's hair's a phenomenon, how anyone can scrap their hair back that far and not need serious medical attention is lost on me.

Gary comes after Curtis. A stereotypical wannabe gansta who has an attitude as likable as a bull elephant's in heat, his face a horrid wreath of mangled flesh as he glares at anyone who he thinks is looking at him for too long.

On my left is one of the most cockiest guys I've ever met, having tried to chat me up as I had walked up to the community centre. He'd been smoking a fag while leaning up against the grey walls as if he owned the place, I had asked for a drag, he gave me one and tried to chat me up in his thick Irish accent. I had pouted as I took the second drag, letting my full lips tempt him; his eyes had been riveted by my lips and my hips, gaze switching between the two as he checked me out. I handed the fag back and let my gaze turn heated and my grin become sultry as I slinked up to him, pressing him against the wall and whispered "Like fuck" into his ear. As I had walked away, I had felt his eyes on me, watching my hips as they swung in my step. I have to admit, while he had been crude, his attention had been flattering in some sort of twisted way. Hey, I still got it.

Alisha, quite simply, is as stunning as the Star of India. Beautiful to look at in a photograph, the disappointment comes when one actually meets her, she seems shallow and superficial. Though who am I to judge? I can't find any other fault with her - she knows she's sexy, and likes to make sure that everyone else in her near vicinity knows it too.

I can't say much about Simon. He's shy, keeps awkwardly scrapping his fringe down on his forehead. Buttons done up to his chin, he's definitely not the type to normally be involved in the type of shit that brings you here. Sure, his eyes are shifty, but he had been rather distracted at my appearance by my breasts – so, normal guy, just needs a bit of TLC to become house-trained.

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So, what do you all think? Like Lauren or not? Tell me. Constructive criticism please, don't go mental.

Force of the Phoenix


	2. The freak storm comes a'callin'

**Psyco-boring disclaimer alert**: You've probably guessed already, but if I owned Misfits all this shit would totally have happened dudes.

* * *

We're given the bullshit task of painting benches. Boring. And what colour are we painting them? White. Double -boring.

I sit down and set to work near Kelly, her tightly wrenched up hair making me stare for a few moments."This is fuckin' stupid" she turns to me and says "Y'alright?", before going on to swear repeatedly under her breath at the stupidity at what we're doing.

"Oh man! There's paint on ma cap! This is bullshit!" gansta wannabe Gary shouts as he kicks a can of paint. The can explodes, white paint gushing out into the lake and some of the cement flooring as he stomps away, almost getting tangled up in an abandoned trolley that he attacks on his exit stage left. I roll my eyes and whisper under my breath "Drama queen".

"Fuck," I hear Nathan, "Remember the name sweetheart you'll be screamin' it later", say to himself, I swear that guy has no brain-to-mouth-filter; glancing at him, I watch as he shakes his head incredulously. He seems to dwell on it for a moment before deciding to fill the silence with his noise.

"So, what are you in for?" he asks Kelly. "I'm guessing shoplifting." He looks at all of us as if it was a betting pool and he was asking who was in."Don't act like ya know me, 'cos you don't" is the tart reply he receives from the, dare I be so mean, chav Kelly. "I'm just making conversation," Nathan replies. "This is a chance to network with other young offenders. We should be swapping tips. Brainstorming. Come on, what did you do?"

Kelly sighs before admitting "this girl called me a slag so we got into a fight." She sighs again while looking anywhere other than Nathan. "Was this on the Jeremy Kyle Show?" this seems to be great fun for Nathan, who grins innanely at his question.

"No, it was at Argos." she says it like it was so obvious, though she is totally justified to be pissed at this dude's serious prying.

"You know what you should've done? You should've grabbed one of those little pens and jabbed it in her eye" he says excitedly, as if playing it through in his mind. Glancing up, I find her staring at him blankly.

Nathan then turns his attention to Simon, who has some serious eye shifting going on. "What about you weird kid? I mean no offence, but you seem like a panty sniffer" Nathan says, turning his attention to Simon. For added effect, he mimics sniffing some abnormally large knickers.

"I'm not a panty sniffer," Simon says in a quavering voice, shaking his head to prove to himself that he wasn't before slowly looking up at Nathan. "I'm not a pervert." This clearly wasn't the right answer for the guy, as he then proceeds to wank off his paintbrush, grotesque noises thrown into the performance, as if trying to torment the information out of him. It works. "I tried to burn someone's house down!" Simon exclaims. Nathan immediately stops, his eyebrows rising in surprise.

"Fuck" he mutters, making his way back to the bench Kelly was painting. "I really hope that you don't make those noises when you're wanking, cuz' I'm pretty sure that what you just did was the sound of a paedophile, dude." Nathan smirks at me his eyes tracing a winding path across my chest, but is interrupted by Kelly asking "So what did you do?", looking the most interested that she'd been all the afternoon. "Me? Oh, I was done for eating some pick-n-mix" he replies shrugging. "That's bollox!" she exclaims in disbelief.

Disinterested in the entire sitch, I begin to stretch languidly in the crappy English sun to gain a few rays, letting my head fling back in pleasure of the flex of muscles a small mewl gaining freedom from my full lips. I really had been doing this shit for too long.

I'm awakened from my musings by a murmured "fuck!" before a really loud wolf whistle permeates the silence that had enveloped us. I open my eyes half heartedly, looking through my thick lashes to gaze apathetically at the source of the noise. Apparently everyone else had thought the same, all staring at Nathan who tries, and fails, to look perfectly innocent. He looks around at everyone before pulling a half grin and saying "What? Have you not seen the show over there?" he points at me, as though accusing me of something, making everyone else look at me, some longer than others, before turning back to Nathan. "And honestly, when a guy sees paradise right in front'a him he's gonna tell her of it." He then turns to me, winking before leering at my breasts that were straining against the wafer-thin fabric of my wife beater. "And sweetheart, you're gonna give me a heart problem if ya keep it up." His last comment must have been on how I had leaned back against my hands, letting my breasts be pushed forward to him. His heated gaze runs over me, and, freakish I know, my traitorous body shivers expectantly as his eye travels down to my stomach and lower.

Man, I needed to get laid. Badly.

Suddenly, there is a loud boom of thunder, the sound permeating around us, the ground almost shaking from the power of the approaching clouds. All six remaining convicts look up to the sky. Huge, dark thunderclouds cover the whole of east London, the storm seeming to be racing towards us at an alarming rate. Despite the fact it was only ten in the morning, the sky was dark and menacing. "What is _up_ with this weather?" Nathan said, voicing everyone's thoughts. As he spoke, there is another crash of thunder.

"How did that happen?!"

Tony's voice booms almost as loudly and as menacingly from behind us as he gestures to the paint splattered when wannabe gansta Garry had left. "I mean, you've been here five minutes? _It's painting benches_." He carries on, speaking as though we're children. "How _did_ you screw that up? You tell me, because I've got no idea!"

The loud sound of smashing causes us all to jump in shock, turning our heads towards the source. A car across the road had been smashed down by a humongous lump of ice. The high wining sound of an alarm started to ring, near to deafening limits.

"That's my car" Tony gasps, glancing between us and the smashed car. Simon pulls out his phone, videoing the whole thing. To each their own, I guess.

Nathan cracks a smile and laughs "Classic". Nathan's chuckling is interrupted as another humongous hailstone falls from the death cloud and splashes in a lake of puddle. Dude, the thing was, like, huge. Dirty water sprays over all of us.

Dude, seriously? Now my top is _definitely_ see through and my breasts can _definitely_ be seen through the damned thing.

Kelly and Alisha both scream as they step quickly away from where the ice-thingie had landed, Nathan freezes as snow floats down and proceeds to cover Kelly and him. "Okay, so I'm a little bit freaked out" he admits, his tone no longer amused.

There was an odd, strangely bloated silence, like the lotus' that are often spotted swaying in Indian streams, their bloated heads swaying delicately atop thin stems with the currants, and stillness lodged in the air. All, as if afraid, silently refusing to believe what's happening for a few moments. This is before Tony comes to his senses and yells "Run!" just as another stone falls, not so far from where I'm standing. We don't hesitate, dropping the paintbrushes and running like hell towards the community centre.

I can't ever recall the actual run to the community centre, only the fear, and the adrenaline pumping through my blood. I feel at some point Nathan's hand slip into mine, his body shielding mine as humongous ice chunks pound the ground and ice bullets ricochet around us. I feel at odd moments of time my body stinging as ice hurls itself to slice into my skin and muscle.

When we arrive, Tony fumbles with the two thousand keys that're on the chain like a total twat. I remember Alisha yelling at him, telling him to "_open the fucking door"_, and he – now of all times the douche –scolds her for it. The rain, harder than in Monsoon season, is coming down faster, more frantically as everyone panics at the locked door.

And then, the world seems to end as liquid fire licks its way through me, my head feeling fuzzy yet zinging with energy. The fire played with my nerve endings, its flickering fingers strumming Mozart as it travels through me, my muscles straining, contracting until I think that they'll snap from the tension. My blood pumping through my head, I suddenly find myself at some sort of fuck-weird peace. The sound of my frantic heart beat seems strangely comforting; I know I'm still alive, my mind becomes groggy and my vision blackens out. Then, it all stops, receding from my mind and body as if it'd never been there, leaving my mind alight, my ears sorely fresh and my skin tingling, numb from the pain it's just endured.

* * *

I'm kinda hurt that I've got 3 frickin' followers but only 1 review. Common fellow fanfic-freakos, if you like - or hate - this shit tell me.

R/R. Please, I'm beggin' you.


	3. The Aftermath

**Psyco-boring disclaimer alert**: You've probably guessed already, but if I owned Misfits all this shit would totally have happened dudes.

* * *

I tentatively crack open a mossy eye, glancing around to check out the sitch. Only, everything and everyone looked exactly the same.

Am I dead?

If I am, the entire 'Heaven is awesome' stuff is utter bullshit. Unless this is Hell. Hmm, maybe. Maybe my hell was to spend eternity doing bullshit community service with some of the most dysfunctional people I have ever known and the most stroppy boss-man ever. Not bad Satan, keep it up and maybe people will stop believing in all that 'pit of fire' crap.

Both eyes open, I notice the sky. Just like in the monsoon season, the storm had vanished as quickly as it had arrived. Now someone else has to deal with the apocalyptic ice-block-hail, death-cloud storm. I suppose the whole thing would be seen as really cool and bad-ass, but right now I feel floppy and stiff at the same time, my muscles aching like that time I decided that I wanted to be an Olympic runner and tried to start training by running 10 miles through Indian rainforest. Shithead idea I know. But, to be fair, I was only 7 at the time.

Pushing myself up on my elbows, I look to see if anyone is injured, or dead. Hopefully not. Death is so depressing.

"I feel really weird," Kelly says in a dazed voice, almost out of it. I snort quite unladylike and say "no shit Sherlock, we just got hit by freaking lightening." I get up, grabbing onto a nearby door arm to hold myself up against the fit of nausea standing up brought.

"We should be dead." Simon says quietly.

I ignore him and his pessimism, instead asking "Is everyone not dead? 'Cuz, I cannot be expected to resuscitate someone."

"Hey!" Nathan shouts, his voice slightly hoarse as he snaps his fingers at the probation worker. "Hey! A little reassurance might be nice, you know. You're fine! Looking good!" The probation worker looks like he's having a fit or some sort of mental breakdown, eyes rolling and head lolling about. "W-wanker." My eye brows rise to hide in my fringe, a soft giggle emanating from my chest. So not expected.

"Did he just call me a wanker?" Nathan asks in a disbelieving voice. Alright, I can't help myself. I giggle again. "You there, hot stuff, stop laughing so sexy! We've all just had a brush with death! That's fucking traumatizing shit! I can't be thinking of fucking you at a time like his. That would make me a sick bastard."

The probation worker spasms, his head was shaking, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, his tongue almost lolling out of his mouth. "Is everyone alright?" he asked weakly."We could have died, you dick," Alisha spat, wincing slightly. I'm not the only one who felt her muscles almost snap then. "Are _you _aw'right?" Kelly asks, showing concern for the boss-man. "You're actin' like a freak."

"Maybe we should call it a day," the probation worker responded in a shaky voice. I go up to him, hesitating before laying my hand on his shoulder, concern for his mental health driving me to ask "Sure you're all right boss-man? That scary shit seems to have crazed you up more than it has us." He looks at me and his eyes, before hazy and unfocussed, come upon me. The gaze focuses on me and softens almost. This touching breakthrough moment with him is totally ruined by the fact that I then notice his eyes move down to stare at my breasts through the soaked wife beater that clings to my skin.

"You sick bastard." I spit at his face before letting him clamber up and run away with his tail between his legs. "What did he do, love?" Nathan asks me as I turn around to everyone. I look down to my breasts and, embarrassed, cross my arms to cover them from everyone's sight, my bottom lips quivering a little. My body language seems to put the message across as Alisha whispers "Sick Bastard" and Kelly looks after the boss-man with disdain.

We make our way to the locker rooms to change, both Kelly and Alisha asking whether I need to borrow a jacket or a shirt. Kelly's check-blue shirt feels oddly rough without anything underneath, but I consider it a friendship starter. So it's all good.

I'm just starting to put on my fishnet tights when Nathan asks "Hey sweetheart, what's that on your thigh." He gestures to the area of my raised left leg, namely my tattoo. Along the inside of my left thigh is a tattoo of Sanskrit that I got during my rebellion when I was 14. I play the nonchalance card and glance at him, shrugging as I say "Sanskrit. Why?" I turn with my leg out horizontally so that everyone can gasp and have a look at my risqué tattoo; everyone looks, save Simon who takes a quick peek before turning a dark shade of pink at the tattoo's placing on my body and turns his head away while self-consciously pushing his fringe down. Bless.

Alisha, curious, asks me "What does it mean?" I smile playfully while brushing a stray piece of my fringe behind my ear. I take a dramatic pause to hold everyone gaze and read out the tattoo in Indian. "No you wanker, in English yeah?" Kelly seems to be saying this in a nice way, almost as if teasing, an endearment… if that's possible. I giggle before turning towards everyone and belting out in my off-key singing voice "**_My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard. Damn right, it's better than yours. Damn right, it's better than yours. I could teach you, but I have to charge_**." Everyone laughs as they get ready to head home.

Shit it's been a long day.

* * *

Come on guys, a few more reviews might be nice since I now have 5 followers. I will name fingers and point names if you don't. Jadlynn, LittleRedxoxo thank you for your reviews - gave me a happy feeling in the bottom of my stomach... though I may have just ben hungry again. And IMNOTOKIPROMISE, how can words tell you how much I value both your support and friendship. Reviews people. Then I can know what I'm doing right... or wrong.

R/R. Please, I'm beggin' you.


	4. Our little moment

**Psyco-boring disclaimer alert**: You've probably guessed already, but if I owned Misfits all this shit would totally have happened dudes.

* * *

Fuck.

I rolled over in my plush, warm bed to check the time. The burning luminescent numbers read 5:57, the clock lighting up my room, throwing shadows on around the room. I kick at my heavy mattress, squirming until I lie there free, mattress cowering in a heap on the floor as my chest heaves from the exertion.

The feeling of tingly energy paired with feeling limp and heavy replaying my head, I wouldn't get back to sleep.

Getting up, I let myself be pampered with a long, hot bath. I sigh and let myself submerge myself within the water, the oils I add making me hiss in pleasure at the tingle of my muscles as they finally began to relax. I slowly brush my hands down my body, hissing as grains of unforgiving ice scratch at my skin before floating down to the bottom of the tub. Slowly, the water begins to cool and I decide that I should probably get out.

Soon enough I'm on my way to the community centre, my ipod on full blast with My Chemical Romance blaring as I opened the doors and walked in. I'm a little early, but hey-ho.

I'm on my way to the locker room when I hear a voice mumbling in the rec room. I sneak in as silently as I actually can, clumsy twat that I am, and go towards the voice, it's only when I get to one of the pillars that I recognize the mop of curly hair and the soft, Irish accent. Is he talking to the vending machine? Ha, what a douche! I then notice the mobile in his hand. I'm such a yutz sometimes.

"So, I just want you to know, there's no hard feelings," Nathan said, pressing his head to the vending machine. "I forgive you, you made your point. Point made. So let's stop all this nonsense, hey? I'll come round and we'll hug, and you'll cry, and I'll move back in. Sorted, everybody's a winner. Anyway so… Call me, yeah? I'll be expecting your call."

I step out from behind my pillar and study the hurt look on Nathan's usually carefree face, whatever the message was about and whoever it was to Nathan doesn't seem to be confident that it's going to work. Pushing a button on the vending machine, Nathan picks up the chocolate bar that falls to the opening. As he turns, he jumps halfway into the air as he notices me standing there looking at him.

"What the fuck?!" he puts his hand on his heart as if scared that it was about to explode out of his chest. "What the fuck are you doin', sneakin' up on me like that?" He seems to be freaked out by my concerned expression and his dark eyebrows rise as I ask "Have you slept here?"

"Why, love... what makes you say that?" His confidence snaps as I raise an eyebrow and cross my arms in disbelief. I notice his eyes bug out a little at my breasts being pushed out by my crossed arms before speaking again. "Ah, yes," he said, scratching his head. "My mum and I had a wee disagreement about the current state of our living arrangement. It was all a misunderstanding, really."

I frown, I may not be an expert on how families are meant to function, but that seems a little wrong. "Without knowing where you could stay?"

"No, of course not, sweetheart" Nathan said in a patronizing voice. My eyes rolls in exasperation, making him falter. "Okay… yes. B-But like I said, it was a misunderstanding. It'll all be sorted in a few days time and then she'll be back to fixing me dinner and cleaning my laundry."

I smile tentatively, letting my eyes show all the sympathy I feel for him. I'm about to turn and leave him to it, but am stopped by his callous hand encircling my own smaller hand. He takes a moment to stare at our joined hands, murmuring to himself "so soft, so small". I go to narrow my eyes at him, but am stopped by the fact that this is the first time he seems to be letting me catch a glimpse of the real him for the first time. He sighs softly "This is fucked up. If I show you where I'm stayin' sweetheart, will ya promise not to blab this to the other ASBO shitheads?" I hold his gaze, his clear baby blue eyes meeting my mossy green ones. I look to our joined hands and sigh. "I promise you Nathan. This fucked up shit will stay between us."

When he showed where he had actually stayed, on the balcony of the rec centre on a lumpy looking mattress and no pillow around, various belongings and bags strung around. I make a quick decision and say determined "Come on Nathan, let's pack this all up." In answer to his surprised face I inform him that he is to bunk with me, I do have plenty of space after all, for a few days while he finds somewhere better or makes up with his mother. He tries it on with me, again, several times, but this time I smile and even laugh with him at the cheesiness of some of his lines.

* * *

Sorry it took so long. And I know it's short, the next is gonna be longer I promise. Bye fellow fan-fic freakos.

Phoenix.


	5. I'M GOING TO KILL YOU

**Psyco-boring disclaimer alert**: Dudes, you've probably guessed already, but if I owned Misfits all this shit would totally have happened.

* * *

Eventually, it is time to conjugate at the designated point. I do not expect to see everyone crowding around the words 'I AM GOING TO KILL YOU' painted across the wall of the community centre.

"This is a joke!" Curtis exclaims when we near him. "Did one of you do this?" He waves his hand around pointing at us all.

I decide to have some fun with him and say in an apathetic voice "Oh no. You've found out my secret. Yes, Curtis. I have a fetish for sneaking down to community centres in the middle of the night and covering their walls with bullshit death threats." I place the back of my hand against my forehead in mock distress as I say in a weepy voice "Whatever shall I do?"I then drop the act and look at him blankly "Seriously dude."

"Don't look at me, 'coz I didn't do it." Kelly snapped.

"I tell you who did it, darlin'" Nathan piped up, a rolled up fag hanging out of his mouth as he put one arm around my waist. I raise a brow, but remain silent. Nathan breaks into a beaming smirk before carrying on "It's that Banksy prick, there's a hidden meaning." He looks at me with a lecherous grin as he adds "It's like that monkey policeman with a banana and a Tesco's bag" when he sees my raised brow, draping the other arm over Simon's shoulders, much to the chagrin of Simon. "Maybe someone wants to kill us." Simon mutters, shrugging off Nathan.

Kelly looks at him as if he's an idiot. "An' why wud anybody wanna kill os?"

It's then that the boss-man Tony, looking much better than yesterday, decides to waltz in to the sitch, and when Curtis tries to rant to him about the 'wall art' he spouts a quip about "anti-social behaviour" before telling us to get on and scrub the writing off of the wall. All is fine and dandy until Alisha's mobile rings, which, after the sitch last time, convinces the probation worker to confiscate their phones.

When it's my turn, I try to explain my sitch. "Look boss-man, I'm expecting an extremely important call from India any day now... and, trust, the caller will be sincerely pissed the hell off if I'm not able to take it." He glares at me, growling at me once again for my phone. I roll my eyes and sigh as I rummage through my satchel for it. The boss-man starts to get pretty mad as I have to start taking out random stuff, like multiple pens, my many to-do lists and even a spare wife beater in case today's one got wet like yesterday's did. I keep biting my bottom lip and sucking it, a crappy habit I got into doing when I was growing up wondering when my daddy was coming home from a meeting. Whether he would make it home, or just disappear without saying good bye like my mummy did. I only later found out, at my 16th birthday, the slag that was my mother and what she had done. Eventually, with the gang laughing their asses off, I yell "Found it!" and hold my mobile in the air as if it's a grand prize at a fair. The boss-man snatches it angrily from my grasp and stomps off into the community centre swearing under his breath while cursing the existence of young offenders. I hold a perfectly innocent face and look at my fellow delinquents. "Was it something I said?" I ask this with the innocence of a five year old, they all laugh their asses off even more; even Simon, before stony faced, cracks a nervous grin at my antics.

The day was spent scrubbing the wall until the paint came off, sometimes jumping up to scrub at parts that I can't quite reach, decidedly ignoring how Alisha is catching some rays and Curtis is spending all of his time drooling all over the cement flooring.

Hey, how they wanna act is up to them. Just don't expect the boss-man to give out equal praise. That seems legit, doesn't it?

I try to keep my mind on the task at hand, but I keep on getting distracted by the fact that I can swear that Nathan keeps on staring at me, like I can feel his head turn to look at me. But every time I try to sneak a peak, he is looking at the wall and seems to be concentrating on the job. I decide to be devious, I lean up on my tip-toe and make it look as though I am trying to reach the highest point my letter reaches. I feel the material of my wife beater ride up so that the swell of my breast is on show, I hold it and listen at the moan that emanates from where he is. Now that I know he is watching, I turn and yell "Aha!"

Nathan, caught red handed, yells "Shit!" in a high pitched squeal; jumping five foot into the air and landing on his butt. I laugh at his surprised face and yell, too happy that I had been right to regulate the volume of my voice, "I knew it! I knew you were staring at my breasts, you dickhead!" Everyone's gaze is upon us, peering like birds of prey at the show playing out before them. "How in the name of Jesus fuck did you know?" I sneer at him while stating that it was pretty obvs that he was; he squirms on the floor, clearly uncomfortable as he says "Ok, ok, I'm sorry. I could help it. I was like a moth to a flame, drawn to your gorgeous bouncing breasts. They're just so... so... perky and round. Do you have any idea how hard it is for a guy like me to not take the opportunity that was just staring at him in the face and not stare at your flawless, sculpted boobs?" I roll my eyes and get back to scrubbing the wall, letting him come to his own conclusion on what offence I took. Silence descended upon us, any noise echoing endlessly as the awkwardness drudged on through time.

"Ya know after the storm, did any o' yous lot feel dead weird?" Kelly asked, trying to act nonchalant.

I can't help but think of how I was able to feel that Nathan was looking at me, as if I could feel him moving. I bite my bottom lip, hoping no one is going to call me out.

"I did!" Nathan said in a loud voice. "I had a strange tingling sensation in my anus."

I look at Nathan in total disbelief, is he for real?

"Did ya feel weird," Kelly persists, turning to Simon. He was glancing at her hesitantly. It did look like he wants to say something, but it's ruined by Nathan demanding "Don't ya want to know about my anus?!" I snort and tell him "Shouldn't you keep that between you and a trained medical prof?" waving my brush in his vague direction while biting my bottom lip once more, wondering how to reach the highest point of red paint. I try jumping for it, but just can't reach it. In the background I hear Kelly asking Simon and Nathan being a prick saying "What's that? Squeak up!" I raise my brow at Nathan, he shrugs his shoulders at me before teasing Simon about his virginity. I continue to try to jump and swipe my brush at the annoying splodge of paint that mocks me by staying an inch or two above my brush swipes. I'm knocked out of concentration by Kelly knocking Nathan over as she stomps away in annoyance.

My head whips around to Simon, Alisha and Curtis, who all look equally surprised then to Nathan, walking over to him and putting my hand out to him. He admires the offered hand before taking it, he smiles as his body smacks into mine, his hands caressing my lower waist. "You know, I wouldn't've thought a girl with soft hands and manicured nails would be in community service." I shrug and say "Whoever does the crime dude" with a little uncertainty as he backs me up a little. I wiggle out of his grip, eyes a little wide as I say "Dude, I'm not into all that free loving crap. I'm not pay-as-you-go, you know." I glare at him before getting on with my work, studiously keeping my gaze towards the wall.

When we finish, we all change, Kelly still nowhere in sight, and end up hanging around in the rec room. Alisha and I are talking together, gossiping and giggling and all that shitz. We're just about to go into the hall, when we overhear Nathan saying "It's a shame more women don't commit crime. Why is that?" we see him pause to look at the others as if he was waiting for an answer before going on to say "I have to say, we did get lucky though."

"How's that?" Curtis says with limited curiosity.

"The girls, of course. There are equal numbers. The maths work out great cuz it's our lucky day gentlemen. There's one for each of us. Get in there." Nathan pumps his fist in the air, supposedly at the joy of his sitch.

I motion to Alisha as if to say 'Can you believe this?' She giggles and rolls her eyes as if to reply 'They're dicks.' We cover our mouths to stop from laughing out loud, sniggering at the boys dickhead antics.

"There used to be four of us…" Simon mumbles. Funny, I hadn't noticed the absence of anyone. Oh, that wannabe gangsta guy had been a no-show all day - "I'm talking about getting laid!" Nathan bursts in. "So, how are we gonna do this? 'Cause the one with the frizzy hair... I don't see me and her getting it on."

"Why, because she's beautiful?" laughs Curtis.

Alisha, before pissed at Nathan calling her the 'one with the frizzy hair', bristles with pride at Curtis calling her beautiful.

"No. Because she'd be way too much effort. Like she'd be super high maintenance, like you'd have to treat her really well," he says, clearly sickened by the idea. "Now, call me bullshit crazy but I think the blonde indie chic and me have got it goin' on."

"Well, you two have been eye fucking each other all day." Curtis says this dreamily, as if thinking of Alisha and the wonders of what they could do to each other. Nathan, totally unaware of his audience's unhearing state, goes on to explain why.

"Her arse and breasts are just… there aren't words to describe their sexiness, nice face, soft skin. Sure, she may be playin' hard to get, but if her hair and snarkiness is anything to go by, she'll be a wildcat in the sack." Nathan seems to think about me 'in the sack' until he nods his head and continues to Simon "And you, weird kid, can have the other one..." He starts clicking his fingers at them, clearing having forgotten Kelly's name. "Kelly?" Simon offers it tentatively, as if handing Nathan his dreams and is scared that he'll tear them to shreds.

Nathan yells "Kelly, yeah, that's the one. She's all yours, weird kid. Not the prettiest, but a couple of Bacardi Breezers and she'll be good to go!"

"I'm telling you," he continues somewhat disappointedly, "A group of young people doing mindless shit all day? It's gonna happen! It always does – it's biology... or physics... one of those. Anyway, so do we have a deal?" He spits into his palm as if he were a small child, holding it out for Curtis to shake to make it a done deal. Curtis, however, does nothing but look at him in disgust before walking away.

Alisha and I decide mutually that it is a good moment now to enter into the convo before things get any more awkward. We both lounge upon the sofa, both smirking to ourselves. Mindless shitty small talk ensues. We learn that, unlike the rumours, Curtis' high profile got him a one way trip to bullshit community payback for possession of a little coke, not dealing or taking steroids like Nathan and Alisha talk about.

Nathan wheels up to him in a wheelchair he'd found. "You let yourself down" he mocks with an impish grin. A small muscle in Cutis' neck strains, his eyes becoming harsh in the glare that he sends Nathan as a warning to not continue. "You let the kids down," Nathan continues, his eyes dancing with excitement. "You let your parents down."

An explosion of flesh shoots to Nathan as Curtis grabs him by the lapels of his jumpsuit and shouts in his face "Shut the fuck up! You know nothing! All I ever did was train!"

"You can't hit someone in a wheelchair!" Nathan laughingly exclaims in his defence. Curtis shoves him, tension in his every movement, the wheelchair sending Nathan backwards and hitting the wall behind him. "I shouldn't even be here," Curtis mutters.

Suddenly, the door cracks open and Kelly, her face a picture of fear, whips in through the doorway. "'e's gonna kill os!" Halfway to us she trips, strewn all over the floor, face deathly pale as she gasps for breath.

* * *

**Dum, Dum, Dum**.

Hello fan-fic freakos. What you think? Good? Review, please. LittleRedxoxo, MysticHunterWitch, Reinbowveins765, tibreezy and under-the-stars-again, yeah I'm lookin' at you. You're my followers dudes, some feedback would be nice. So I know what you think. IMNOTOKIPROMISE, just wanna thank you for your continued support and lovin'.

Pheonix.


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